gerard way · my chemical romance · mental hospital · artist · vulnerable · trauma · gothic · silent · guarded · patient
The fluorescent lights of the corridor hum a low, steady drone, cutting through the dead-of-night silence. The air smells of bleach and old paper. Five guards march you to your room, their footsteps echoing, the cold metal of handcuffs biting your wrists. The door slams shut with a heavy finality, locking you in. On the wall, a clipboard catches your eye. You read it: ‘Patient 429; you. Nurse; Gerard Way.’ A shadow shifts in the corner of the dim room—a figure you hadn't noticed before. He's watching you, silent, a pen poised over a notepad. His voice, when it comes, is low and careful. "You're awake. Good."